Just Claire
by AtHeart150
Summary: AU A story about Claire. Just an idea I have been mulling over - the who and the why of her. Includes Jamie, for who would Claire ultimately be without him, The Frasers, Lallybroch and France.


The characters do not belong to me. They are the creation and belong to Diana Gabaldon. I just tweak them.

Just Claire 1

I kept still and low in the tall grass, barely moving except for the occasional blink of a eye. It's not like I had never seen a mother feeding their baby from their breast before. I had witnessed it many times, not just Scottish mothers and babies, in my five years of life; the first two years could hardly be counted though as I was not aware enough to have watched or noticed breastfeeding women for I was busy with my own feedings. For some reason this mother and this baby were different. I was fascinated. I could not take my eyes from the sight of them.

She was beautiful. The most beautiful mother I had ever seen. Not pretty like the others with their pouty lips, rosy cheeks and dark eyelashes. No, this mother was majestic, like a queen, a goddess. She was tall, I could tell, even though she was sitting on a tartan of an unknown clan. Her hair was what had originally caught my attention and made me sneak closer for a better look. It was her long, straight, flowing hair, being blown about in the wind, with it all the colors of an artist's palette - an ombré of red, yes, like a red deer pelt, but with cinnamon, auburn, strawberry, amber, ruby, burgundy and copper all splashed freely through it. Even some chestnut I thought. It looked so soft. I was mesmerized.

Her face reminded me of Jörõ, wife of Oden, mother of Thor, The God of Thunder. Norse blood ran deep in her. She was clearly a warrior. Her pale, chiseled face turned to look at the baby. She reached her little finger to it's lips and released the baby's latch. She placed a rag over her shoulder, laid the infant on it and patted it soundly on it's back. Three pats and the baby made an extremely loud belch. I giggled out loud, forgetting I was hiding, and then clapped my hands over my mouth in an attempt to take my giggle back. If the warrior mother heard me, she gave no indication. She then exposed her other breast and began, once again, to feed the infant. This baby had a huge appetite, no wonder he was so large. My eyes grew big as saucers as I watched in awe. She stroked the baby's head and cooed words I did not understand but knew they were ones of a mother's declaration of love for her child.

She was looking up, in the direction of the mill, watching, like a hawk looking for prey. Her eyes found it, latched onto a vision of I know not what. If I had stood to look, my presence would be known for sure. I was not ready to be found quite yet.

But the baby...suckling once again, vigorously at her breast with unabated hunger, was what drew my sight and enraptured me. Froze me where I was. Unable to remove my gaze or move away.

She then turned and looked directly at where I hid in the tall grass. Her eyes were gray with pale lashes fringed in black. She had found me.

"Come, fear beag ( _little one_ ), would ya like to meet mo mhac ( _my son_ )?" she whispered to me. As if in a trance, I crawled from my hiding place, dragging my gathering basket with me. I came to kneel beside her on the plaid, never taking my eyes from the baby. I raised my small hand to stroke the red fuzz on the baby's head, but before I touched him, I raised my eyes to meet hers.

"Aye," she replied, with a softness in them and nodded her head. "Go ahead. I ken you mean him no harm."

I looked back down and gently placed my hand upon his head. The fuzz on his head was as soft as that of a chinchilla I had once pet while high up in the Andes, not so very long ago. I looked back up at the Nordic Goddess and smiled. The baby immediately stopped suckling and a corner of his lip curled in a special sort of half smile when I traced my finger slowly along his jaw, his skin pale and soft. His little fist rose up and grabbed at the air and I offered my finger to him hold. He latched on as if for dear lift. A strong grip for one so young. My thumb stroked the back of his hand as he held my finger tightly. His eyes opened. Azure rather the a plain blue...a blue like that of a deep ocean. Eyes to get lost in. And shaped like a cats eyes, slanted a bit. Not her eyes then. The father's, I wondered? With my finger still tight in his little grasp, he rooted, found his mother's nipple and began to eat again.

"He certainly is single minded," I giggled again. "Greedy fellow. You should always drink while you nurse. Tea is best. Or water. Never alcohol."

"Is that a fact?" she asked. "I've never been told that."

"A very wise woman once told me that. Stay hydrated she said," as I repeated word for word. "What is his name?"

"His name is Seumas," she said. "James to you. You may call him Jamie, if you like. His brother and sister do."

"Seumas. James. Jamie." I said out loud as I rolled each name around in my mouth. "He is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen," and I looked back up at his mother and smiled.

"English are ya then?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. "What is your name lass?"

"My name is Claire, just Claire." I said softly. "I am French, not English" I corrected her. I tried to tuck my brown curls behind my ear but the wind just blew it in any direction it was going.

"Weel, I am Ellen Fraser. I am verra pleased to meet ya just Claire." she said and smiled. "Now, ya can'na have walked here to Lallybroch all the way from France, so where are ya stay'n now my wee beauty?" and she reached out and tucked a curl behind my ear and it stayed. "If my Jamie here will stop feeding long enough, I believe I have a piece of ribbon in my pocket. I will tie your hair back for ya, if ya like."

I looked up at her and smiled. I would like that, I thought to myself. I returned my gaze to her son. I became so entranced in watching Jamie and moving my little finger so he would grasp it tighter, I did not even hear the others approach until a girl, about my age, fell onto the blanket like she was dying, panting from running. I laughed at her.

"Uill, dè tha a 'dèanamh no a tha againn an seo, no chridhe?" The tall dark haired man asked. _Weel, what or who do we have here, my heart._ When the man looked down at me I knew he was the baby's father. Baby Jamie clearly had this man's eyes even though the father's eyes were hazel, not blue. There was a boy with red hair and the same hazel eyes, that looked to be a little older than me, standing beside him, glaring down at me. I smiled back at him.

"This is Claire, my love. She has come to visit our wee Jamie," she said with a smile. "If I did'na ken better, I'd think your son was already in love with her. He wil'na let go of her finger and stopped eating long enough to gaze upon her face so a to recognize her when she comes again."

"Is that so? He asked with an eyebrow raised. "Will ya be joining us for lunch then, Lady Claire? We have plenty and would be happy to have your company. Best for us to get to ken our future daughter, aye Ellen?" They both laughed but a serious look was passed between them as the man bent down and placed a hand on his son's head and placed a kiss on his wife's lips.

"Oh," I said. "Does that hand pain you much?" Claire asked pointing her finger at the father's hand that laid upon Jamie's head.

Brian stopped kissing his wife and looked down at his hand. "Aye. It's been painful for a couple of days now, why lass?" he asked.

"Because it is swollen. Infect...Inflamed. You will have a fever soon. May I look at it? Claire asked looking from Jamie's father to Ellen. Seeing the father was going to refuse her, she looked beseechingly at Ellen for help.

"I ken it will be alright, Brian. Let the lass have a look," she said, "if the hand has truly been paining ya."

Claire turned and place a kiss on the top of Jamie's head and said, "You must let go now Jamie. I need both of my hands to help your father. I will not leave you, yet." Jamie stopped feeding, rolled his head and opened his eyes. He blinked once, released her finger, then went right back to feeding.

Brian sucked in air. Ellen reached beside her and placed her free hand on her husband's knee to still him from saying anything. Claire turned and took Brian's hand in her two small but capable hands. She flipped it from the back of the hand to the palm and back, wiping dirt off as she looked.

"May I see your other hand?" Claire asked him. Seeing the look of confusion on his face, she added, "to compare the good hand to the injured one." Brian complied without any further question.

"How old did ya say ya were, Claire?" Brian asked as Claire worked.

"I did not say, but I am five years old. I will be six in October." she answered.

"All of five, then, are ya? I understand how ya ken so much then, ya be'in such an aulde woman and all," Brian said with a smile as his wife pinched his arm. "Owe, woman. That hurt. Ya made me move the hand my healer is look'n at too. Behave or I'll tan ya hide for it," he said and he winked at his wife.

"Mr. Fraser, sir, I need you to please go down to the water by the mill and wash both hands. Thoroughly. Make sure they are clean. Then return. There is too much dirt for me to get a good look. I think you have a splinter," Claire said looking up.

"A what?" Brian asked.

"Please sir, wash your hands and then come back." she implored and batted her eyelashes at him.

A look of shock came over Brian's face and he looked at Ellen. "Please tell me she is'na flirting with me," he whispered.

"No, I think she is repeating a ploy she has seen work on men when used by other women, is all. Go. Wash your hands. Willie, go with your father. Jenny, Claire and I will set up lunch. Bring Murtagh back with you as well," she said with a smile. "Shoo now. I'm hungry. The sooner ya go the sooner ya'll be back and we can eat."

Brian stood, looked down at Claire and shook his head. "Come Willie, ya heard your mam. Help me wash my hands and find Murtagh. I'm hungry too."

Willie turned to his da and said "Race ya, then," and started running down the hill.

"Hey, ya cheat," his father said with a chuckle, and took off after Willie.

Upon their return, Claire dug through her basket and found her flask of whiskey, some bandages and the small sgian dhu that her father kept sharp for her. After wiping the injured area and the knife thoroughly with the alcohol, she offered a sip to her patient. With a practiced and steady hand, she quite quickly removed a rather large splinter from it's hiding spot at the base of Brian's thumb. She looked up to see all three adults looking at her with their mouths open in awe. She re-wiped the wound with whiskey from the flask she confiscated back from Murtagh and then bandaged Brian's hand.

Lunch. Claire sat on the corner of the plaid with an apple Ellen had given her cupped gently in her hands. She watched while everyone ate, talked, told jokes and played with the baby. Claire quietly backed away into the tall grass just the way she had arrived. When she was behind the large chestnut tree, she felt safe enough to stand. She peeked around the tree to watch the family...Brian, Ellen and Murtagh were standing up. Looking. Then Jenny and Willie popped up too.

"Claire" Ellen called out. "Claire." When there was no reply, she shouted "Thank you sweet Sorcha. Come and visit Seumas, and us, at Lallybroch anytime. I enjoyed meeting ya. Enjoy the pink ribbon." Claire's hand went to the top of her head to make sure it was still there, and smiled when her fingers felt it.

The ground grain from the mill was loaded in the back of the wagon with Willie and Jenny sitting on the plaid spread out on top of the bags.

"I think we may have just met Jamie's bride today, Brian." Ellen said as she took her husband's hand and they walked toward the wagon.

He turned and looked at her. "Are you serious, Ellen? He looked down at his infant son quietly sleeping in the crook of his arm and laughed out loud. "Ya sure can work the ladies at an early age lad. We are going to have to have **THE TALK** before ya're 7, if ya keep this up. An older woman, ta boot. I do approve of ya taste though, son. She is verra bonny for a five year old, I must say" and he jumped forward as his wife swatted his arse.

Brian helped his wife into the wagon and waited for her to settle on the bench seat. He passed his sleeping son to her to hold for the ride home. He climbed up after her and urged the horses into a walk. Murtagh on his horse, rode ahead and they made for home. Tomorrow was a big day. Jamie would be baptized. He and Ellen had finally agreed...James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser.

Claire smiled as she peeked behind the tree and watched. She watched them leave. The family. Her family. She needed to tell Raymond. She would have to be diligent and fill her basket on the way home. She did not have much to show for being away all day. They would ask questions if she came home empty handed and she did not want to share today with anyone. She had finally met the red man Raymond had told her would be her destiny. Her heart was filled with joy.

The entire family had auras, except Murtagh. She had never come across that before. Jamie had a deep, clear, brilliant red aura, already. Unusual for an infant; realistic and strong-willed, powerful, sexual and passionate. His father's aura was black; a long-term unforgiveness and a darkness around his heart – he was unwell and did not even know it. His mother's aura was a bright pink; loving, tender, compassionate, sensual and artistic. The son, Willie's aura was dirty and gray; very guarded with blocked energy. There was some green which was probably Lallybroch. The daughter, Jenny well she was tough. She was a blood orange; courageous, stubborn, survival oriented. She would be the back bone of the family. The one that looked out for and protected them all.

She would tell Raymond about the Frasers, the auras and baby Jamie. Maybe, after supper, they could see what the bones had to said about it. Raymond said she was getting quite good with reading them. The gypsy woman said she would teach Claire how to read palms soon also.

She turned away from the tree and skipped almost the entire way back to the camp, after filling her basket with chestnuts from the tree.


End file.
